Giving Them Something to Talk About
by Stellata
Summary: All those little what-if moments... A collection of Harry/Hermione one-shots. New: When Harry's fed up with the fake things The Daily Prophet's been saying about him. So why don't Harry and Hermione give everyone something to talk about?
1. Giving Them Something To Talk About

Disclaimer: Does not belong to me, sadly. Or this would have happened.

Note: Starts in Goblet of Fire, changing and evolving on page 318, right before Harry and Hermione's outing to Hogsmeade.

* * *

"I hate talking to you in that cloak," Hermione sighed. "I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

Harry smiled and touched her arm gratefully before running upstairs to put on his Invisibility Cloak. Then he headed back downstairs, and together he and Hermione set off for Hogsmeade.

They were halfway across the grounds when Harry spoke quietly.

"Thanks for doing this," he told Hermione. "I know you don't want to."

"Of course I want to spend time with you," she said simply. "I just hate this publicity. Everyone's so fickle – they want you to be their hero one moment, and the next they're condemning you. I just really _hate_ people sometimes."

Harry reached out and took her hand in his.

"That's going to look strange," Hermione giggled. "My hand's gone."

Indeed it was, Harry realized.

"Oh well," he said quietly, not caring for the moment. He squeezed her hand tightly, and Hermione turned her head to beam – at a point about a foot from his face. It was that thought that counted.

"Hermione, I've been thinking," he said, finally voicing something he'd thought about saying for months. "Please stop trying to reconcile me and Ron, all right? I'm sick and tired of his attitude. He's been jealous of my fame, my money, my name – all things I can't help – for years, but I've ignored it because I thought I needed his friendship. And I don't, not anymore. I mean, I've got you."

Hermione's eyes prickled.

"All right, Harry. You've got me."

"That's all I need," Harry told her again. She squeezed his hand back tightly, so tightly he thought the circulation was gone.

"He's an idiot," Hermione said quietly. "I only talk with him because I figured you'd take him back eventually. I mean, you always choose him over me."

Harry felt a rush of guilt, remembering the last year when he had ignored Hermione for months over a stupid broom and Ron's missing rat.

"I never said sorry," he realized out loud. "I'm a right git, aren't I?"

Hermione let out a half-laugh, half-sob.

"Well, not all the time."

Harry grinned at her, but she couldn't see it.

"That's good to hear," he said softly. "I'm sorry, by the way. Very sorry. You've never left me, not once. I'm – I'm glad you're my best friend, Hermione."

"Me too," she said, looking even closer to tears.

They had just started on the path to Hogsmeade, hidden partially by the trees.

Harry made a sudden decision and took off his cloak.

"What are you doing?" Hermione gasped.

"I want to go to Hogsmeade with my best friend," Harry told her with a smile. "I'm not going to hide that. I can ignore whatever they say, as long as you're with me."

Hermione practically leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. Harry grinned dumbly and hugged her back.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

She relaxed and pulled back slightly. Their foreheads rested against one another. Harry and Hermione stood there for a while, absolutely content in each other's arms.

Harry was acutely aware of the flutter of her eyelashes, the warmth of her breath, and the intensity of her dark brown eyes. He'd never been this close to Hermione before. Harry had the sudden revelation that his best friend was absolutely gorgeous.

When the moment came, they gently pulled away and began walking to Hogsmeade again, hand in hand. Harry's invisibility cloak was carefully rolled up and tucked into the bottom of Hermione's bag.

When other students saw them, some of them laughed, some threw horrible remarks their way, and others quoted that stupid Daily Prophet article.

Harry blocked it out and listened to what Hermione was saying about an advanced transfiguration spell she'd just read about last night in bed.

He was suddenly distracted by the thought of her in bed. What did she wear to sleep? All the boys wore pajamas, Harry knew some girls did as well. Others wore nightgowns, though. Harry had a sudden, vivid image of Hermione in a tiny red silk nightgown, sprawled enticingly over black silk sheets, her long hair tumbling free over her shoulders...

Harry gulped and tried to think about transfiguration again. He listened as carefully as he could, trying to avoid such enticing thoughts about Hermione.

The other students stopped their insults when they realized Harry didn't care.

Hermione led Harry into Honeydukes, where she bought them both some delicious cream-filled chocolates, and a bag of chocolate-covered cherries for later. They walked out munching on their treats. Hermione was telling Harry about the time she had tried to bake her mother a cake for her birthday and ended up destroying the kitchen (she was six).

Harry laughed and stroked his thumb across the back of Hermione's hand. She looked sideways at him with half-lidded eyes, and smiled shyly.

"Your teeth," Harry blurted out, realizing something. "They're – different!"

"After Malfoy cursed me," Hermione began to explain, and Harry's heart filled with rage again at the blond Slytherin, "Madam Pomfrey shrank my teeth again, and I... conveniently told her to stop a little late. They're smaller now – do you like them?"

"They're nice, and I'm glad you like them," Harry answered truthfully. "But I also liked your regular teeth... They had originality."

Hermione blushed prettily.

"That's so sweet," she told him. Harry grinned, and then spotted Rita Skeeter and her photographer out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione followed his annoyed gaze.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "Do you want to go?"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving because of them."

"It'll just lead to another story, and more people talking about you," she told him honestly.

"Then let's give them something to talk about," Harry said quietly, his eyes suddenly flashing.

"Harry?"

He brought their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

Hermione reached out to fist his robes in her hands, and returned the kiss with an intensity that practically made Harry see stars. Harry had thought he had surprised her, and maybe he had, but she was acting anything but surprised. Hermione seemed totally unfazed, and _damn_ she was a good kisser.

Their arms wound about each other naturally, hers coming around his neck, his sneaking lower and caressing the small of her back and the curve of her hip. Harry savored the faint taste of chocolate and cinnamon, and the ever present taste that was Hermione and delicious.

When she finally gave him a chance to breathe, Harry just grinned deliriously at her. Hermione smiled mischievously and rubbed their noses together before fluttering her eyelashes and seizing him in another long, devouring kiss.

Hermione pulled back again much later. There were some flashes and clicks nearby, and Harry knew the photographer was still snapping photos.

"Want to grab a butterbeer?" She said lowly.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, ridiculously happy.

So they did. Quite a few people had seen their kiss on the street, and most of them were watching the young couple in silence.

When they finished their drinks and their conversation about European politics (Hermione got the Guardian every week, which was filled with a mess of things to talk about), Harry and Hermione glanced around.

"Just a moment," Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek before hopping down and going over to a table... Where Lee Jordan, Fred, George and Ron were sitting.

"Hey Ron," Hermione said casually. She leaned forward until he was tilting nervously backwards in his chair.

"I gave you time to see your mistake," she told him coolly. "Time's up. You left Harry, and there's no going back anymore. Consider our friendship, if you can call it that – over."

Ron tilted too far back and his chair toppled backwards, spilling him onto the floor with a pained cry.

"Fred," Hermione turned to Ron's brother with a glint in her eye. "How do I get into the kitchens?"

Fred gulped, glancing down at Ron, then quickly leaned forward to whisper in Hermione's ear. She grinned, patted him on the shoulder, and headed back to Harry, who was waiting for her.

"Shall we go then?" He smiled warmly at her.

"Yes please," Hermione beamed.

Her hand slipped into his and they walked out together.

"I hear the Shrieking Shack is an excellent place for snogging," Harry said off-handedly.

"Can't argue with that," Hermione laughed. "Lead on."

They were happily absorbed in each other, a feeling that would last for their rest of their lives.

So the rest of the world could just go screw itself.


	2. No Pulse

At the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Neville makes a simple mistake. Everything changes. Absolutely Harry/Hermione, with a hint of Neville/Luna.

Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. A girl can dream, though...

* * *

"WE'VE GOT HIM!" yelled the Death Eater nearest Harry, "IN AN OFFICE OFF -"

"_Silencio!"_ cried Hermione.

Everything was happening so quickly.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" shouted Harry, and the second Death Eater fell at Harry's feet, completely petrified.

"Well done, Ha -"

But the Death Eater Hermione had just struck dumb made a sudden slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like purple flame. It passed right across Hermione's chest; she gave a tiny "oh!" as though of surprise and then crumpled onto the floor where she lay motionless.

"HERMIONE!"

Harry fell to his knees beside her, clutching her shoulders.

Her eyes were closed, her body still, and her face pale.

"No, no, no," Harry whispered, shaking her roughly. "Hermione! _Reducto!"_

He had turned to aim the curse at the Death Eater who had cursed his best friend. Dolohov had been fighting Neville, and was too distracted to block the curse. Neville was just about to be kicked in the face when Dolohov was flung backwards.

Harry's reducto hit Dolohov full on in the chest. Neville stared in shock at the dead Death Eater, lying on the floor with a gaping hole in his chest.

Standing there splattered with a dead man's blood, Neville was shocked at how relieved he felt.

He turned to look at Harry. He was still kneeling over Hermione, rocking back and forth.

"You can't leave," Harry said desperately. "_Hermione..._"

Neville fumbled to check her pulse. In his hurry, he missed it.

"No pulse," he whispered in horror. "Harry..."

Harry's face hardened. His Hermione was dead. He'd killed Dolohov for it. _But it wasn't enough_. His heart pounded, and he was filled with rage.

He brushed a kiss over Hermione's cooling lips and stood up.

"Let's go," Harry said coldly.

Neville stared at his friend in awe and stood up in a hurry, holding his wand up in front of him.

"I'm over here!" Harry bellowed. Neville worried about the logic of giving away their position as the seconds ticked by, and vowed to be ready for anything. Then came the footsteps.

"I'm coming, Potter!" Bellatrix Lestrange yelled gleefully.

The instant she stepped into the room, two twin reductos hurtled straight at her chest. She had no time to be surprised before she died.

"Good one," Harry told Neville before flinging another blasting curse at the next Death Eater.

It was like cattle lining up for the slaughter. They stepped in, and were killed by blasting and slicing hexes to the hearts or to their heads. Neville had never felt more confident, more powerful – or more horrified. Still, he kept his terror in check as he helped Harry decimate the Death Eaters.

Five Death Eaters were dead: Dolohov, Bellatrix, and three other men whose names Harry didn't know. Malfoy and six others were still at large.

"Let's find the others," Harry said coldly. "_Levicorpus_." With Hermione's body floating along behind them, Harry and Neville slowly walked out of the room.

Harry quickly dispatched the baby-headed Death Eater in the next room – _six down, Neville thought_, and they moved on.

They left the office, and went back to the black hallway, which was now deserted. The door swung shut behind them, and the walls began to rotate once more.

Before they could make a decision as to which way to try, a door to their right sprang open and three people fell out of it.

"_Luna_!" Neville cried, dashing towards them. "Ron – Ginny – are you all - ?"

"Neville," said Ron, giggling weakly, lurching forward, seizing the front of Neville's robes and gazing at him with unfocused eyes. "Ha ha ha... You look funny, Neville..."

Ron's face was very white and something dark was trickling from the corner of his mouth. The next moment his knees had given way, but he still clutched the front of Neville's robes, so that the other boy was pulled into a kind of bow.

"What happened?" Harry asked coolly, and Ginny shivered. The redheaded girl shook her head and slid down the wall into a sitting position, panting and holding her ankle.

"I think her ankle's broken, I heard something crack," Luna said, bending over her friend. "Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets, it was a very odd place, some of the time we were just floating in the dark – What happened to Hermione?"

"She's dead," Harry said coldly, and Luna looked at him in horror. Ron still looked bemused, clearly unaware of what was going on.

"_No_," Ginny gasped, looking up at the still form of Hermione. Luna rushed over to Hermione's form, ending the levicorpus and letting the brunette drop into her arms. She gently lay Hermione on the floor and felt her pulse.

"She's alive," Luna declared after a moment. "But her pulse is very faint."

"Alive?" Harry croaked, and fell to his knees beside them. He had never been so relieved, so happy in his life. "_Hermione..._ Thank _Merlin.._."

"We need to get her out of here," Luna stated. "To St. Mungos. Whatever hit her is serious."

"Everybody grab onto me," Harry said quietly, and they did as he asked, albeit bemusedly.

Harry concentrated on the feeling of apparation that he had once read about, weeks ago. He squinted and _believed_, as hard as he could, that he could apparate.

They all felt a sudden tug, and Ron vomited onto the floor – of the hospital. They were in St. Mungos.

"Get help!" Harry roared at the witch behind the lobby. "She's dying!"

Several Healers rushed in moments later, and rushed the six students to the emergency ward. Ron was quickly stupefied so they could treat him, and Ginny's ankle was fixed within a minute.

Harry, Neville, and Luna watched as the Healers poured potion after potion down Hermione's throat.

For the tenth time, Harry described the curse Dolohov had used on Hermione.

"I'm sorry," one of the Healers said quietly, shaking his head. "There's nothing more we can do."

Harry slowly sat down beside Hermione on the bed.

"_Mione,_" he whispered, so low that only Luna and Neville could hear him. "You can't die – _not again_._ I – couldn't stand it_."

The normally unflappable Luna began to cry silently on Neville's shoulder. He responded by wrapping his arms around Luna and holding her gently while she sobbed.

"Don't you hear me?" Harry demanded. "You can't die, 'Mione, you can't die."

The monitoring charms began beeping loudly. Hermione's heart rate was too slow. She was almost gone. Healers rushed into the room, but there was nothing left for them to do.

"No!" Harry groaned, tears dripping down his cheeks. "I'll do _anything_ not to lose you again! Hermione _- I love you_!"

Then it happened.

Neville and Luna were thrown against the floor as the windows shattered and the lights exploded. The Healers were flung against the wall.

Harry was lying beside Hermione, holding her in his arms. They were both surrounded by a golden glow. Harry was whispering something that the others couldn't hear, and a wind seemed to pick up within the room.

Neville held Luna tightly as they watched their friends in awe. Ginny and another Healer ran into the room and stopped abruptly by the sight on the bed.

Just when the glow couldn't get any brighter, it seemed to explode, scattering fragments of light throughout the room. As it touched the others and sank into them, they all sighed and began to feel better. The residual pain in Ginny's ankle was gone. Neville had never smiled this hard in his life. And for the first time since before her mother died, Luna felt truly happy.

"_Harry_?" Hermione whispered, her eyes fluttering as she looked up at him.

_"Hermione,_" he breathed in awe. _"You're alive."_

"Yes," she whispered. "Very alive."

He kissed her.

Neville blinked in surprised delight. Hermione, his first real friend, was kissing the boy of her dreams, a boy who he certainly approved of. And of course, he had a wacky, utterly gorgeous girl in his arms.

Luna grinned. Two of the few people she could call friends had found love together. She snuggled closer to Neville. He was very warm and cozy, she thought contentedly.

Ginny couldn't help but smile as well. Yes, she still had a residual crush on 'the Boy-who-Lived,' but this was Harry. Any fool could tell that Harry and Hermione were meant to be.

The Healers turned to each other in shock. It seemed that the most powerful healing magic was created through love. Who would have thought?

Harry and Hermione didn't notice anything around them.

They were wrapped up in each other's arms, kissing as if there was nothing else in the world but each other. For the moment, that was all they needed.


	3. Of Heartbeats and Hippogriffs

After rescuing Sirius, Harry has something he needs to tell Hermione. Harry/Hermione oneshot.

Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. A girl can dream, though...

* * *

Harry sat very still, trying to calm his racing heart.

"It's okay," Hermione whispered to him. She reached out between their hospital beds and took his hand gently.

"You were so brave, Harry."

Harry could barely nod. He glanced at his friend, who looked at him with such care and concern that he broke.

"I was so scared," he admitted.

It was like a dam had broken. Hermione practically jumped out of bed and came to sit by Harry's knees.

"I was too," she told him softly. "That Professor Lupin would accidentally kill us all - or that we wouldn't save Sirius. But he's out now, Harry, he's safe. We did it."

He gripped her hand tightly and closed his eyes tightly.

"Why are you so nice all the time?"

She blinked at the non sequitur.

"Harry - what... I'm really not."

"I was the worst friend in the world," Harry went on, still unwilling to look at her. "I left you because of a stupid broom - and _Pettigrew._"

"Well, you didn't know - " Hermione tried to say.

"No, Hermione! There's no excuse for it. You've always been there for me, helped me with everything I've had to do, risked your life several times - and I couldn't even repay you once. I'm not proud of myself," Harry told her, finally opening his eyes to show her how earnest he was. "I listened to Ron's foolishness, sided with him - when I should've shown you the loyalty you deserve. I'm _so very_ sorry, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes shone brightly, and she smiled.

"Thank you, Harry. I accept your apology."

"It shouldn't be that easy," Harry groaned, still stricken with guilt.

"Harry, you're my best friend in the world," Hermione told him, her voice breaking. "I'd forgive you of anything."

"You really, really shouldn't," Harry finally smiled. "But I feel exactly the same way. What you said, before I faced Quirrell... You were right. Friendship, bravery... That's what's important."

Hermione nodded and bowed her head, using her sleeve to wipe away a few tears.

"You - you cut yourself off," Harry murmured. "As if there was one other thing to say, but you were afraid I wouldn't like it. I - I think I'd like to hear it now."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. Slowly, she began to smile, and no more tears came to her eyes.

"Books... and cleverness. There's more important things; friendship, bravery... and love."

Harry beamed at her.

"I've never loved anyone before I met you."

Hermione's heart rate sped up.

"Harry... I love you too." She leaned forward, and Harry did too, so their foreheads rested against each other.

He took several deep breaths, sure that this memory would be enough to fuel a thousand Patroni. Then one of her arms snaked around his neck, and he was pulling her into a hug, the fourth one he'd ever received (all from Hermione). It was by far the best yet. He held her tightly and tried to ignore the tears trickling down his cheeks.

"I love you so much," Hermione repeated, clutching him tightly, blissfully happy to be able to say such a thing.

Harry felt utterly relaxed holding her, and protested as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispered again, looking deeply into her eyes. It felt like the most important truth in his life, and he wanted her to know it over and over.

Hermione laughed lightly, sweetly, and tipped her head forward so their noses touched.

"Your heartbeat..." Harry whispered. "It's sped up."

"So has yours," she retorted lightly, still staring at him with her gorgeous brown eyes.

Harry grinned and did the only thing that made sense.

He kissed her.

Nothing else had ever felt so perfect. Nothing else ever would.


	4. Well Worth Fighting A Dragon For

A bit of HHr fluff. What might have happened if Ron decided not to come down to the tent after Harry finished the 1st task, and Harry and Hermione get a moment alone.

Harry sat in the tent, numbly watching Madam Pomfrey cleaning his cut with a dab of some purple liquid. It smoke and stung, but when she poked his shoulder with her wand, Harry felt it heal instantly.

"Now, just sit quietly for a minute - _sit! _And then you can go and get your score."

She bustled out of the tent and he heard her go next door and say, "How does it feel now, Diggory?"

Harry didn't want to sit still: He was too full of adrenaline. He got to his feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before he'd reached the mouth of the tent, Hermione darted inside.

She flung her arms around him, and Harry embraced her back just as tightly. He spun her around, laughing. When he finally set her down, he didn't let go.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione said excitedly, her arms still around his neck.

"Only because of you - "

"Don't be silly, Harry, it was - "

"Hermione, you saved my life by teaching me that spell," he said firmly.

"I don't know what I would've done without you," he continued. "You're always there for me, and I don't know how to thank you enough."

They stood there, still embracing, gazing into each other eyes - Hermione had such gorgeous deep brown eyes. Their lips were only an inch apart -

A thought, that he and Hermione were just friends, no matter what the Prophet said, flew through Harry's mind, but he ignored it...

He brought their lips together, kissing her fiercely. Her lips were so soft and yielding as Harry kissed her thoroughly - and then, oh Merlin, she was kissing him back!

She had the most delightful little moan, Harry thought, and he should have done this ages ago, and the way she moaned into his mouth should definitely be outlawed in Britain...

Kissing Hermione was the best thing that he ever remembered doing, and he never wanted to stop. He pulled her even closer, their bodies were now pressed together, one hand held her firmly by her lower back, the other moved to caress her soft hair... Her hands had slid up to hold his head firmly, and he groaned as he felt the tip of her tongue enter his mouth.

She tasted too good for words, he didn't ever want to let her go - and she certainly didn't show any signs of stopping either.

After what seemed like hours of bliss, they both pulled away gently, gazing at each other starry-eyed. Harry knew he was grinning ridiculously, but he didn't care - he had the most beautiful girl in the world in his arms. She was looking at him like Christmas had come early, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses.

They both panted slightly, holding each other closely.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed softly. "That... you... mmm," she finished, at a loss for words.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," he told her with wonder in his eyes.

Hermione beamed. Harry always knew exactly what to say.

Suddenly, Madam Pomfrey stuck her head back into the tent.

"Mr. Potter," she said reprovingly. "They're waiting for you - they're ready to give the scores." Still, she smiled slightly at seeing the two teenagers wrapped so lovingly in each other's arms.

"Severus owes me five galleons," Madam Pomfrey murmured happily to herself.

Harry and Hermione detached themselves from each other reluctantly.

Hand in hand, they walked out of the tent to face the world.


	5. Mistletoe and a Loony Intervention

After the DA meeting, Harry's hanging around under the mistletoe. Luna drags Cho away, and only Hermione is left with Harry. Oh, what to do when you're stuck under the mistletoe with your scantily clad best friend... Very happily Harry/Hermione.

Disclaimer: Sadly not mine. A girl can dream, though...

* * *

Harry shifted nervously back and forth. Members of the DA trickled past him through the door, wishing him well for the holidays as they did so.

"Thanks, Neville," Harry murmured as he looked over at Cho Chang, who was still standing by the bookshelves.

A minute passed and Harry continued to stand awkwardly by the door. Besides him and Cho, only Hermione and Luna remained in the Room of Requirements.

The blonde Ravenclaw looked over at Harry for a second, and grinned deviously. Harry didn't notice, his eyes on Cho, until he heard...

"Ahhh!" Hermione screeched.

Harry's attention immediately drew to his friend, and he hurried across to her.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm terribly sorry!" Luna said breathily.

Harry looked at the problem. It appeared that Luna had spilled her hot chocolate all over the front of Hermione's robe - and her sweater.

Hermione harrumphed as she flung off her robe. Harry couldn't seem to look away as she unbuttoned her sweater and took it off as well.

Now she was wearing only a blue tank top.

Harry blinked rapidly.

He mustn't look, he mustn't look... Oh God, he was looking!

"I'll buy you a new sweater in Hogsmeade," Luna was promising Hermione. "After the holidays. That is, if you're not busy then."

She walked off, beaming, over to Cho Chang. The chinese girl's expression grew more and more morose by the second, but Harry didn't notice.

"It didn't burn you, did it?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Come on, Cho," Luna said happily. "I need some advice on a party dress..." The blonde took the other girl firmly by the arm and promptly dragged her from the room before Cho could get in a word edgewise. Luna grinned at the two Gryffindors – not that they noticed – before closing the door behind her.

"I'm fine," Hermione sighed, looking at the garment in her hands. "It's just - that was my favorite sweater."

"You look better without it," Harry muttered.

"Excuse me?" Hermione finally looked up.

Harry's heart almost stopped. They were inches apart, and he had certainly never seen his best friend with so little clothing on before.

"Well, I..." Hermione trailed off. "I, um..."

"Mistletoe!" Harry blurted, his eye suddenly catching the plant above them.

"Oh..." Hermione said, confused. "What -"

Her next comment was cut off by Harry planting his lips on hers.

"Har - mmmmm..." Hermione trailed off as he began to kiss her.

Hermione's lips were blissfully warm against his. She parted her lips moments after the kiss began, likely out of surprise, but Harry didn't care, and quickly took advantage.

He explored her mouth slowly, leisurely, enjoying the taste of chocolate and the hot warmth of her tongue against his. Without realizing it, he had reached a hand around to pull her closer, and now his fingers tangled in her delightfully wild hair.

Hermione took several moments to recover from her shock, and relax into the kiss. It wasn't anything like what she'd expected her first kiss to be like... it was much better. Harry felt perfect against her, and she felt simultaneously safe and strong in his arms.

She slipped her arms around him, one around his neck and another around his waist, and was rewarded when he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her flush against him. Tingles ran up and down her body, from her hips to her breasts, and her belly tightened pleasantly.

Harry pulled away to take a breath, and Hermione almost whined in protest.

"Harry," she moaned, and pulled him back to her.

They lost track of time as they held each other, eager to investigate everything that made the other tick. Harry loved the moans Hermione made, and even more so the occasion whimper she treated him to.

Hermione pulled away to run kisses along Harry's neck, and was rewarded with a series of deep groans that made her smile and press her body more firmly to his.

"Hermione, Hermione," Harry panted. He suddenly realized he had a problem and was immensely thankful for the loose robes he wore - then he realized he was pressed right up against Hermione, and there was no way she couldn't feel _that..._

Harry yanked back, flushing, and Hermione frowned.

"I - it's too much," he admitted, quite breathlessly, and Hermione felt very powerful.

"You mean... _this?_" She stepped up against him and thrust her pelvis gently against his. Harry _moaned _and _threw_ his head back.

"Hermione - _God!_"

"You like that?" She whispered, bringing her mouth up to nuzzle his jaw-line. "Because I do too."

"You _do?"_ He sounded almost disbelieving.

Hermione grinned like the cat that got the canary as she walked them over to the couch, pushing him gently backwards. With a single unceremonious shove, Harry fell back onto the couch, and was startled as Hermione straddled his hips.

Anything he had to say was cut off as she kissed him more passionately than ever before.

"No farther," Harry finally managed to tell her.

She frowned, but her eyes softened.

"All right, if you want," she told him, leaning to rub their noses together.

"I mean - I just..." Harry tried to explain. "You're my best friend, Hermione - and the most beautiful girl in school, but my point is... I think we should take it slow. I don't want to lose you... ever."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione beamed, feeling like her heart was filling with happiness. "You're not going to lose me."

"Good - 'cause..." He took a long, shaky breath. "I care about you, Hermione. I've never cared this much about _anybody, ever._"

"What - are you saying? Harry... Do you love me?"

Harry looked at her and saw what he felt reflected in her eyes.

"No, Hermione," he said, everything suddenly clicking in his mind. "I'm _in_ love with you."

She gasped and impulsively kissed him again.

"Harry," she moaned between swift, hot little kisses. "I've - been - in love - with you for - _years..._"

He held her close, trying not to cry with happiness, and concentrated on proving his love with his mouth. Hermione melted into his arms and he held her tightly.

As long as they had this, had each other, Harry thought suddenly - everything was going to be all right.


	6. Shall We Dance?

Harry overhears that Cho is going to the ball with Cedric. So whoever is he going to go with? Will he get up the courage to ask his best friend out?Harry/Hermione.

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine.

Note: Begins during Goblet of Fire, a few days after the Yule Ball is announced...

* * *

"What? Really? Cho?"

Harry screeched to a stop. They were talking about Cho Chang, surely! He stood very still, leaned against the wall, and hoped he wasn't going to be noticed. Luckily the three girls chatting were in an otherwise empty classroom and hadn't seen him.

"Yes! The Champion's girl... I'm so excited! I hope they sit near me at dinner!"

Harry frowned in confusion and some shock. Had someone found out about how he felt about Cho? But that didn't make sense, he hadn't even gotten up the courage to ask her out yet...

"Snagging Cedric Diggory... Cho Chang's a lucky witch..."

Harry's heart plummeted again.

He had been starting to quite like Cedric – prepared to overlook the fact that he had once beaten him at Quidditch, and was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone's favorite champion. Now he suddenly realized that Cedric was in fact a useless pretty boy who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup.

He quietly turned around and headed back towards the Common Room, lunch forgotten.

Fortunately, it was completely empty, and Harry sank down onto a chair. He tried to clear his mind and take some deep breaths.

He had never said more than ten words to her, Harry told himself firmly. She didn't know him at all – so she was going with Cedric. They had tons in common – they were smart, Quidditch players, and very popular.

Cho was probably very happy with Cedric, Harry thought with a pang.

Then he remembered something.

He had to take someone to the ball anyway. Since there was no point in asking Cho anymore, he had to find someone else.

Someone who wasn't after him for his fame. Someone who didn't care about his fame. Preferably a pretty girl, too...

Harry was distracted from his thoughts by a few muffled shouts.

"Come on, Hermione!" He heard Lavender's voice. "Try it out. Nobody's down there anyways."

"All right," he could almost hear Hermione rolling her eyes.

A moment later, Hermione came walking down the stairs... in a dress.

It was dark blue and clung to her in all the right places, showing off curves that Harry had never realized existed. Her legs were long and slim, and reached all the way down to a pair of silver heeled shoes.

"I'm never going to learn to walk in these," she told Lavender, who had come down behind her.

"Just keep trying," Lavender told her. "It'll come to you..."

"Harry!" Hermione said in surprise.

"Hey," Harry said quickly as he rapidly turned his gaze up to meet her eyes.

Hermione was blushing to be discovered in her outfit. Lavender looked between them and smiled secretly.

"So what do you think, Harry? How does she look?"

She grabbed Hermione's hand and purposefully spun her around. Hermione gasped and tried not to fall. Harry swallowed.

"Good," he said hoarsely. "Real good, Hermione."

Hermione blushed even harder.

"Thanks, Harry. Lavender's lending me some heeled shoes for the dance."

Harry felt a strange feeling in his chest.

"Who're you going with?"

"Well, no one yet," Hermione admitted.

"Someone will ask you soon," Lavender said sweetly. "Who could resist such a sexy date?"

"Lavender!" Hermione gasped, quite shocked.

"Right, Harry?" Lavender prompted.

"I – I don't know who could." It was Harry's turn to flush. He heartily agreed with Lavender's assessment, but he didn't know how to say that without sounding like a lecherous prat.

"Well, I've got to get some make-up," Lavender said smoothly. "Hermione, stay down here and walk for a few minutes to break them in."

Hermione's blush was receding, and she slowly began to walk again.

"Heels are ridiculous," she told Harry. "They're dreadfully hard to walk in, and they hurt!"

Harry watched her hips sway, barely listening.

"Mmm," he mumbled.

Hermione looked over at him – and slipped a little on the edge of the carpet.

"Oh!" She struggled to keep upright.

In a flash Harry was by her side, putting an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

"Thanks," Hermione said gratefully, not releasing Harry's hand from its spot in her hand.

"Hermione," Harry breathed. She smelled faintly of flowers, and vanilla.

He just held her close for a minute.

"Do you – will you – er, do you..."

"What?" Hermione said, confused but mostly amused. Harry took a breath.

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?" Harry asked, as slowly as he could manage. He couldn't remember ever feeling this nervous.

"Wait!" He said quickly. "You don't have to – I mean, you're my best friend, and I don't want to ruin that. And you, you could do so much better. You probably want to go with someone else, and now I've made you feel awkward, and – what are you doing?"

Hermione had draped both arms around Harry's neck.

She answered him by way of a kiss.

It was soft, and tingled slightly. Harry just stood in place for a moment, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment, before he made a move to reciprocate.

Lips carefully caressed each other, warm and wet, and Harry's heart sped up.

Then Hermione's tongue darted out to lick his lip, and he tried to do the same thing – and wound up finding just how delightful it was to taste the inside of her mouth.

Curious, Harry opened his eyes as he continued to kiss Hermione. She looked divine in his arms, her eyelashes thick and dark, and her small nose utterly cute.

She made a little noise, half-way between a moan and a whimper, and Harry shuddered slightly. He tried to make her make that noise again, and succeeded within a few moments.

Hermione pulled away a few inches and opened her eyes.

"So that's a yes?" Harry asked lowly.

"If that wasn't a yes, I don't know what is," Hermione laughed and hugged him.

Harry just grinned and held her in his arms, savoring the way she felt against him, warm and solid and very womanly.

"So, are you going to teach me how to dance?"


	7. Ticklish

Some 1st year girls are torturing Hermione... or are they? When Harry joins in the fun, he and Hermione end up in positions they never expected to, and Harry must admit to his feelings for his best friend. Harry/Hermione one shot, set 5th year.

Disclaimer: These characters and the setting do not belong to me, except for the original characters. The plot and dialogue is totally mine!

* * *

Harry smiled from behind his book as he listened to Hermione helping the first years with their homework. McGonagall had certainly done right in picking her as a prefect; Hermione was responsible, just, and incredibly kind and helpful to the younger years.

Right now she was working with Jenny and Cecilia, the two smallest first years Harry ever remembered seeing, on their Charms work. As he grew more each year, everyone younger seemed to look even smaller. Jenny and Cecilia were very cheerful, and frequently let out giggles that were not obnoxious like Lavender or Parvati's, but youthful and innocent.

Harry went back to his book, skimming over Quidditch maneuvers for Chasers, wondering if there was something he could adapt to use when playing as Seeker. When he read about the famed Delhi Weave, Harry suddenly had a thought on how he could use it. He grabbed a pen (he hated the feathers, they were terribly hard to use) and a piece of parchment, and began to make notes on how to do the move.

A sudden shriek caught his attention. Harry dropped his pen and shot to his feet, recognizing the voice as Hermione's.

"No, don't!" Hermione was giggling.

Most of the students in the Common Room were looking her way in curiosity.

Jenny and Cecilia were smiling mischievously. They had been joined by their friend Eleanor, another first year, and were all suspiciously close to Hermione.

"So you are ticklish," Cecilia declared happily.

"Don't," Hermione said weakly, pushing back her chair and standing up.

Harry's eyes shot to the roof as the three first year girls slowly got to their feet as well. Then they dived on Hermione. The prefect shouted and twisted desperately, trying to avoid their moving fingers.

"Hehehe, hahaha, stop!" Hermione giggled.

Harry was torn between amusement and wanting to help his friend. After a minute, the girls left off, leaving Hermione flushed and grinning.

"Back to your work," Hermione said quite sternly, and the girls obeyed.

Shaking his head, Harry headed upstairs to his room. He loved the freedom of Saturday afternoons. Harry did his reading for Transfiguration class, then decided to go back downstairs and see if Neville wanted to do their Herbology work together.

He had just gotten out of the door when Hermione came racing up the stairs and bumped straight into him.

"You have to hide me!" Hermione gasped as Harry steadied her so she wouldn't fall.

"What?" he asked, concerned. "What from?"

"No time!" Hermione said frantically. "Don't tell them I'm in here!" With those cryptic words, she fled into his dormitory, closing the door quickly behind her. Harry was quite worried.

What was Hermione running from?

Should he be hiding as well?

Just as he was considering stepping inside his dorm and maybe, just maybe, crouching behind his bed with his wand drawn, three younger girls ran up the stairs.

It was Jenny, Cecilia, and Eleanor.

"Did you see her?" little Eleanor asked him breathlessly.

Harry suddenly realized what was happening - the little tickling monsters had returned to torment Hermione.

He grinned and pointed to his dorm.

The three girls nodded their thanks. Jenny quietly opened the door before sneaking in.

Wanting to see what exactly they had in store for Hermione, Harry entered after them, closing the door and standing in front of it, for no particular reason, except... maybe to block possible escape routes.

The girls diligently searched the room - under all the beds, and even in the wardrobes and chests. Finally they had exhausted all the possibilities but one - Harry's curtained bed.

The first years grinned craftily at each other before tiptoeing to the bed. Cecilia held up her fingers - one, two, three - and then they all grabbed the curtains and flung it aside, peeking in and leaping onto Hermione.

Harry was highly amused to see them begin to tickle Hermione, and even more amused when she laughed wildly at their antics as she tried to push them away. Hermione kept on failing miserably at removing the young girls from her person; it was either because she was being too gentle, or because she was too weak from their tickling.

They continued their attack, throwing her robes open and tickling her tummy, her neck, her arms, her legs, and even her feet, once they had removed her shoes.

Hermione managed to glare at Harry accusingly even as she laughed hard, but he just smiled at her. He could tell she was trying to say something.

"L - L - ha - lic - hehe - licor - ah - licorice - hahaha - wand!" Hermione finally managed to gasp out, and the girls reluctantly stopped their tickling.

"All right, now we get a two minute head start!" Jenny declared. She grinned and tugged on her friends' sleeves. "I know where we should hide!"

"Okay, lead the way," Cecilia agreed, and followed Jenny outside. Eleanor grabbed Hermione's shoes and ran after her friends.

Harry watched the three little girls run out and slam the door behind them. His gaze turned back to Hermione. She was lying on his bed, her robes stripped off of her, only an a tank top and shorts. She looked utterly disheveled and exhausted.

Trying to regain her breath, she pointed a finger at him.

"You - you. Told them. Evil Potter."

Harry tried not to laugh gently at her state and instead went over to her and helped her up, sitting her on the side of his bed.

"I apologize deeply for my terrible behavior in enabling the cruel actions of those tiny demons, milady."

"No teasing! You should be sorry, letting them torture me like that..."

"How can you be so affected by that? I'm not ticklish at all." Harry asked her wonderingly.

"Oh, I'm very sensitive," Hermione told him. "Those girls have somehow managed to figure out my most ticklish spots..." She sighed heavily, having finally regained her breath.

"Oh really? Where are they?" Harry asked casually.

"Oh, my feet, my neck, and especially my belly," Hermione replied without thinking. She suddenly realized what she had revealed, and looked at Harry wonderingly for a moment.

"You wouldn't..."

He pounced.

Hermione gasped in shock, then giggled ferociously as his fingers stroked her belly lightly. She fell back onto his bed, and Harry resumed his attack.

"N-no!" Hermione cried between laughs. She tried to push him away, but failed.

"Now I know why the girls enjoyed this so much," Harry smiled wickedly. He moved his left hand up to tickle her neck, and she tried to protect it, but he just used his other hand to pin her hand to the mattress.

"So their safe word was licorice wand... I have a different one..."

He had her full attention, she was staring at him even as she cracked up.

"Simply say - pumpkin pie."

Hermione tried to say it.

"P - heh - pum - hahahaha!"

"Not quite," Harry smirked down at her. "I must say, it's rather sad that Hogwarts' finest student has succumbed to such a simple torture." He really hadn't had this much fun in a while...

Hermione was laying on his bed, head on the pillow, legs spread and kicking slightly. Harry was kneeling in between her legs, his hands darting between her neck and belly, never failing to elicit giggles. She thrashed beneath him, murmuring incoherently between laughs.

He had never seen her like this. Sure, he had seen her relax before, but never fully let go before. He knew that other than himself, Ron on occasion, and Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw, Hermione rarely interacted with the other students outside of class. Now she had been caught playing tickle chase with several eleven year olds and getting on famously with them. It was surprising and a relief to see her having fun too.

Harry had also never had her in a position like this before. Never had anyone in a position like this, actually. Now he had a beautiful young woman lying under him in his bed, in a practically helpless state that his hands had reduced her to... Oh Merlin he had a dirty mind.

He quickly took his hands away from her before he began to think any more inappropriate thoughts. Hermione lay there, trembling for almost another minute, while Harry just looked at her.

"Pumpkin pie!" Hermione got out finally, just to be on the safe side. Then, when she had finally regained her wits, she looked up at Harry. He was kneeling between her legs, staring down at her with an indescribable look that sent a little flutter to her stomach.

Oh, no, Hermione thought to herself desperately. Her silly crush was really annoying sometimes, but especially when she was lying on Harry's bed, legs spread and wearing practically nothing. Hermione desperately looked away from him. Her eyes caught the roof of his canopied bed. There, spanning the entirety of the roof of the bed, was a...

"You have a mirror!" Hermione gasped in surprise, then blushed at the implications that could have.

Harry looked up exasperatedly.

"It's not mine. I don't use it for anything - well, obviously, Hermione! I don't have a girlfriend! The mirror was there when I moved in. I asked the other boys about it, and I was the only one with it. I just ignored it until third year, when Seamus decided to tell me what it was commonly used for... I wanted it down, but none of us could undo the charms on it, and we - well, I - was too embarrassed to ask Professor Mcgonagall to help get it down. I don't use it!" Harry repeated, quite flustered. Hermione surely didn't think that he actually...

Hermione continued staring at the mirror instead of back at his face. But now she studied their reflection. From the way she lay, his position, and the way his face was leaning down towards her, it looked from above as if he was... Using his mouth _there..._ Even her wide open mouth seemed to make her imagination work further into the picture, her head thrown back as if he was bringing her the ultimate pleasure... Hermione gasped and looked back at Harry.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concern in his tone. He leaned forward and inadvertently put his hands on her thighs. She shivered visibly.

"Are you cold?" Harry asked, now confused.

"Hey, Harry - oh! I'm so sorry... Hermione!" Neville Longbottom stood in the now open doorway. He was blushing. "I didn't realize, I only - I mean - " He stuttered.

"Didn't realize?" Harry questioned, even more confused.

Dean stood behind Neville.

"We didn't realize you two were - uh, occupied. When you two... finish, Harry, there's an owl for you - it was brought to the Common Room right before you headed upstairs... We'll just... leave you to it, then!"

"No!" Harry cried, bolting to his feet. They couldn't know - Hermione couldn't know what he'd been thinking, not ever...

"We weren't occupied, not like that! I was just tickling her! Nothing inappropriate! Hermione's my best friend... We're not dating! That's ridiculous! She's not my type!"

Hermione sat up suddenly, slid to the edge of the bed, grabbed her robes, and ran out the door, shoving past Neville and Dean. Both boys were startled to see a tear sliding down Hermione's cheek as she pushed past them.

Neville stared disapprovingly at Harry.

"Whatever happened, Harry, that was way out of line. You hurt Hermione."

"I didn't - I didn't mean..." Harry began, horrified. He suddenly realized how far he'd accidentally gone in his efforts to hide his feelings for Hermione.

"Whatever you meant, it came out horribly," Neville told him firmly. "Go and apologize. Make it up to her somehow."

Dean nodded in agreement. The look on both of his friend's faces made Harry feel incredibly guilty.

"When you clear that up, you can get your owl," Neville told him. "It's waiting downstairs, but some second years were giving it treats, so it can wait a while longer." He left, with Dean following close behind him.

Dean stopped before exiting and turned to Harry.

"Better luck next time, Harry. My advice... don't make her cry again."

Harry stared at his bed where Hermione had lain just a minute before... She had been so close, and then he had pushed her away. He had just panicked. He couldn't let her know and risk everything that they had as friends. He hadn't wanted to be the one to be pushed away, so instead he had done it to Hermione - sweet, beautiful, ticklish Hermione. She didn't deserve what he had said. He had never meant to make her cry.

Neville was right, he had to make it up to her. But how could he, without explaining why he had lashed out like that; without explaining how he truly felt about her, how he'd felt for years? But he had to try and fix it, and if that meant hurting himself in the process, well, Harry would have to take that risk.

Harry walked determinedly down the stairs to the Common Room and headed to the girl's stairs. As he walked along, he was completely oblivious to the presence of anyone else in the room - until someone yanked his sleeve harshly, causing him to bend forward to keep from falling.

To his surprise, he saw little Jenny in front of him.

She brought a small hand as she could to his face. It wasn't a particularly hard slap compared to some of the blows Harry had received in his lifetime, but it still stung, and since he was already bent over, he struggled to keep from falling over.

"That's for Hermione," Jenny told him with a glower. "You're not supposed to make her cry."

Harry slowly stood up again, looking down at the tiny blonde girl.

"I suppose I deserved that. Thanks, Jenny. I'm sorry for making her cry. I didn't mean to hurt Hermione, and I'm going to apologize to her right now."

Jenny looked at him, her glare fading and her face slowly turning thoughtful.

"I guess it's okay, then. Shake?" She offered a hand, which Harry took despite his befuddlement. She gave his much larger hand a few hard shakes, then dropped it and walked over to her table.

Harry stared amazedly after her for a few moments, then shook his head. He tried to ignore the fact that almost the entire population of Gryffindor tower was in the Common Room, half of them staring outright at him, the other half watching surreptitiously as they could.

Then he suddenly realized he could not get up the stairs. He was very lucky Hermione's dormitory was the closest to the bottom, and not the fourth up as his was. Then he realized that this would be an incredibly public spectacle.

The last thing I need is publicity, Harry sighed inwardly, but he tried to tough it up.

"Hermione!" He called up the stairs. "It's me, Harry."

"Leave me alone!" She called back.

"I can't go away; I need to talk to you," Harry told her.

"You've said enough already. Please go away."

"Hermione, this is very important. Please come down."

"No." Her voice was very firm amidst her little sobs.

"Hermione, I swear to you, I'm very sorry. I said some things I didn't mean. Please forgive me."

"Don't take back what you meant, Harry. It was very clear how you felt."

"No, it was not bloody well clear!" Harry was shouting now, and he didn't care that everybody was listening.

"It wasn't true at all, I promise. Hermione, I'm getting down on my knees." Harry knelt beside the staircase. "I'm begging you to forgive me."

There was still no answer.

Loud footsteps sounded, and Harry's heart leapt - then he realized it was coming from the boy's dorms. Fred and George Weasley had arrived.

"Hey, what's going on?" Fred asked, seeing everyone's attention directed on one thing.

"Harry, what're you doing?" George asked the younger boy, perplexed.

"He's trying to talk to Hermione," Dean told him.

"Oh, wow," Fred looked pleased. "You finally proposing, are you, Harry?"

"Getting down on bended knee?" George grinned.

"Offering your heart on a platter?"

"Preparing for the doomed life of marriage - albeit to the lovely Hermione?"

"Do let me see the ring!"

"We're invited, right?"

"We better be!"

"Mum will be rather mad if she isn't invited too," George said calmly.

"So when _is _the wedding, anyhow?" Fred asked eagerly.

"I'm not proposing, damn it!" Harry shouted at them, fed up with the whole situation. "I was going to wait a couple bloody years for that!"

He stopped suddenly as he realized what he had said. The true depth of his feelings for Hermione struck him for the first time.

Harry didn't just like her. He didn't just like _like_ her. He didn't just _love_ her. He was completely _in love_ with Hermione Granger, and there was no way to change that.

Of course, the entire Gryffindor House now knew it too. Dean and Seamus raised their eyebrows, and Neville smirked. Fred and George were positively beaming.

Most importantly, Hermione must have heard him too.

Harry closed his eyes. Would she crush his heart while he was already down? He knew he might deserve it, but still hoped she wouldn't be as harsh to him as he had been to her.

They all heard the sound of a door opening.

"Is he really on his knees?" Hermione called down the stairs, her voice quite clear now.

"He sure is," Neville called, still looking smug, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

Harry's heart beat faster. He could hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked very determinedly down, in fear of meeting those eyes that probably hated him. So he stared at her gorgeous bare feet.

"Look at me, Harry," she chided him firmly. What could he do but obey that voice?

Slowly he moved his eyes up her body, slowly examining those long, shapely legs, those curving hips and breasts, that long neck, those ever-so-kissable lips, that adorable nose, and lastly her eyes...

Those beautiful dark brown eyes, that shone with such emotion. She didn't hate him! Hoping against hope, Harry listened to her next words.

"You want to... to marry me, Harry?" Hermione looked at him with warmth and clear affection in her eyes.

"I - I just wanted to start a... a relationship with you," Harry said, slowly stood up and looked into her eyes. "And maybe do that other thing a little later. Would you - would you be at all interested?"

"Yes, Harry, yes," Hermione breathed, her closeness to him making her slightly giddy.

"Hermione," he whispered, leaning in slightly, but fearful of taking liberties.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered back, her mouth caressing the syllables in such a way that he couldn't stand there any longer. He moved less than an inch, and their lips touched.

They shared one long kiss that showed each other just how much they cared for each other. It wasn't a perfect kiss by any means, but they were happy just to be together at last, holding and touching each other while affirming their love.

Harry could vaguely hear some cheering and catcalls behind him, but he really couldn't care less. He finally tore himself away from her sweet mouth to ask her something quite anxiously.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Oh, yes, you silly, yes!" Hermione laughed gently and pulled him back to kiss him once more.

Neville smirked and stepped up to push them both towards the boys' dormitories.

"Please, get a room," he quipped. "We won't interrupt you two for a good while."

Hermione and Harry shot their friend a grateful look and quickly disappeared up the stairs.

"Okay, everybody, show's over!" Neville called to the onlookers. "Come on, you fan girls - and fan boys - don't you have your own lives to lead? Get back to whatever you were doing before this all happened. I'm sure you all have homework to do."

So they did. And all their lives did indeed go on, as well as could be expected.

And as for Harry and Hermione, they were happier than anyone could possibly have imagined.


	8. Slip of the Tongue

At the train station after Goblet of Fire, Hermione leans in to give Harry a kiss on the cheek. Harry tilts his head too much, lips meet... The rest is history. Harry/Hermione oneshot.

Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. A girl can dream, though...

* * *

"Have a good summer, Harry!"

He turned to smile at his best friend.

"You too -"

Hermione leaned in, lips poised to plant a farewell kiss on his cheek.

Harry blinked and leaned just a _little_ too far to the left.

Her warm lips landed quite firmly on his mouth. Hermione gasped as if in shock, and Harry reacted instinctively.

He swung out an arm to pull her in close, and took her head in his other hands to keep her still.

Then his lips were moving against hers, softly and slowly, and her mouth was open in surprise. Harry didn't waste time accepting the accidental invitation by deepening the kiss, and Hermione practically melted in his arms.

"Bloody hell," Fred whistled.

"You go, Harry," George nodded.

The rest of the Weasleys watched in shock. Ron looked horrified, and Ginny looked sad but resigned.

Petunia Dursley looked as if she would faint. Vernon purpled, and his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, without any sound coming out. Dudley Dursley, much like Fred and George, looked surprised yet very impressed.

Theresa and Matthew Granger both grinned. They had heard enough about this Harry Potter from Hermione's letters that they felt this was a good development.

Harry and Hermione were oblivious to anything but each other. Instead of waning, their kiss merely grew in passion.

Several passing students who had never personally met either Harry or Hermione stopped in their tracks to watch momentarily. All the straight boys and not-so-straight girls wanted to be Harry in that instant, while every straight girl and not-so-straight boy on the platform wished they were in Hermione's shoes.

After about ten minutes, the Weasleys left, the twins and Ginny using force to prevent Ron from disturbing the new couple.

"Hermione," Harry murmured when they separated.

"Harry," she whispered back. "I think we fogged up your glasses."

Harry blinked and realized it was true, and began to chuckle with Hermione. He slid off his glasses and leaned in to kiss her one last time, chastely.

"I will definitely have a good summer," he told her as he stroked her hair.

"Come visit me," Hermione whispered. "Soon."

"Absolutely," Harry grinned. "We're... I mean, where do we, er, stand?"

"I'd say that I'm yours and your mine," Hermione said, straightening Harry's collar while smiling absolutely mischievously. "Get it?"

"Got it," Harry nodded.

"Good," she smiled, and kissed him one last time before walking over to her parents. "Call me soon."

Harry clutched the piece of paper she had slipped into his hand and tucked it very carefully into his pocket. He walked over to the Dursleys and actually grinned.

"Well? Are we going or not? I'm looking forward to this summer."


	9. Trapped in the Broom Closet

A/N: Here's another one-shot from my HHr archives. Hope you enjoy it! In case you've read this one or some of the others before, its because I posted them separately a while ago, but am consolidating them into this story file now.

Broom Closets come in handy, Hermione learns, when Harry pulls her into one. Hmm, what are they getting up to in there? One shot, Harry/Hermione, set 5th year.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way. A girl can dream...

* * *

As she ran through the halls, Hermione wished desperately that she had just borrowed Harry's Invisibility Cloak. She leapt down the stairs and moaned in worry.

"I'll catch you!" Filch screeched as he followed her. The elderly janitor was shockingly nimble, she had realized as she fled the library.

Hermione hoped he hadn't recognized her. Maybe she could find somewhere to hide - but Filch was gaining on her, and anywhere she went now would be seen by him.

She made a sharp turn at a corner, and was suddenly grabbed and pulled into a broom closet.

"Shhh," a voice whispered, and she shivered. She heard Filch running by, still screaming obscenities. It was another moment before she calmed down.

"You just _had_ to visit the Restricted Section at two in the morning?"

She knew that voice, tinged with amusement.

"Harry!" Hermione breathed, turning in the closet to face him. "How did you know..."

"Marauders Map," he murmured back. "Handy, isn't it? Brought my invisibility cloak too, figured we'd need it to get back."

She beamed at him for his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Harry." She realized he still had an arm around her waist, and their faces were millimeters apart. She grinned, knowing she had a perfect opportunity to tease him.

"So, do you do this a lot?" Hermione purred, leaning against her best friend and draping an arm around his neck. "Catch girls off guard and drag them into broom closets? Some people may think you're trying to take advantage of me."

Harry swallowed, hard. When had Hermione's voice changed from 'normal best friend' to 'sex kitten'?

Before he said anything, he had another realization. Of course! She was teasing him. Well, two could play that game.

Feeling a surge of bravery, he pushed her roughly against the back of the closet.

"And there's nothing you can do about it, Miss Granger," he hissed.

"Oh no!" Hermione said breathily. Harry felt his heart speed up as she threw her head back. "Mister Potter! But everyone says you're such a golden boy! I never thought I was so wrong!"

"Prepare to be ravished," Harry growled into her ear.

Hermione trembled in his arms. She gasped aloud as she felt a tightening in her lower belly and her breasts. She had never expected Harry's playacting to arouse such feelings in her.

There wasn't much light in the broom closet, but there was just enough for Harry to make out the outline of Hermione's body beneath her tautly stretched robes. She looked gorgeous like this, sounded astonishingly wanton, and smelled absolutely perfect.

He nuzzled her ear, then growled again, pretending to bite her neck. Hermione moaned and writhed in his arms, and Harry suddenly realized his own body was more excited than he thought.

"Have you changed your mind, Miss Granger?" He spoke roughly. "For you certainly seem willing enough!"

"Yes, Harry, take me, take me now!" Hermione tossed her head about, her eyes closed and lips wide open, unaware that the game had just changed.

"As you wish."

Harry took her head in his hands and began to kiss her. It started soft and gentle, and changed part way through as Hermione's eyes flew open in surprise. Instead of pushing him away as Harry had thought she might, she kissed him back with passion and vigor.

Hands began to wander, stroking and clutching, and certainly enjoyed wherever they went. They held each other close, not willing to let go so soon. When at last he had to breathe, Harry pulled back with regret.

They both breathed in heavily, their foreheads resting together.

"Hermione," Harry panted.

"Ummhmmm?" She grinned.

"Again," he insisted, and she didn't resist, only moaning in reply.

A long time later, they slipped the Invisibility Cloak over themselves and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. The Common Room was entirely empty but for them.

"Thank you for coming for me," Hermione told him softly as they stopped at the bottom of the girl's stairway, still holding each other.

"I will always come for you," Harry promised, and Hermione's smile in the candlelight made him feel like the best guy in the world. "So - tomorrow."

"Tomorrow what?" Hermione purred.

"I take you somewhere special."

"Are you offering to make an honest woman of me?" Hermione suggested playfully.

"Hermione, will you be my girlfriend?" Harry asked quite solemnly.

"Duh," his erudite best friend answered with a grin, and snogged him again.

"Good night, Harry," she whispered. She left him dizzy and aroused as she traipsed up the stairs.

"Sleep tight," he called back, and couldn't help grinning dumbly as he went up to his own bed.

That night Harry didn't dream of the mysterious corridor, or of Cedric's death, or Voldemort, or even Umbridge. Instead, his dreams were filled with a partially dressed Hermione, quite a bit of snogging, and a certain broom closet.

Harry smiled as he slept. His life was looking up.


	10. Incorrect Recollection

Another little one-shot from the archives... Set maybe between 6th and 7th year?

Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Very, very sadly.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed in the morning - before he even grabbed his glasses, or made sure his wand was tucked under his pillow - no, the first thing he noticed was his best friend in bed with him.

He jumped away from her and out of the bed as fast as he could, and for a moment he just looked at her in shock. Then he found his voice.

"Oh bloody Merlin..."

Hermione was asleep, curled up sweetly on one side of the twin bed. She yawned softly and moved in her sleep as he stood there watching her.

She was wearing her nightgown - that tiny blue garment that Harry had wished for days now wasn't so distracting. But at least she was wearing something. And Harry was wearing his pajama pants, although he was shirtless.

He had messed up somehow.

The rest of the Order were gone for the night, so Harry and Hermione had decided to try some of Sirius' firewhiskey. A few sips and they'd been spilling their funniest secrets to each other. Harry's heart thudded as he tried to remember if he had told Hermione his greatest secret in his drunkenness.

"This is not good," Harry stated, scratching his head and reaching for his glasses, which were astonishingly on Hermione's side of their bed.

Had he just thought of it as their bed? Oh, he was seriously screwed. Somehow some articles of clothing had come off, but he couldn't remember the circumstances of it at all. Then he had woken up with his arm wrapped around a scantily clad Hermione.

There was a small sigh from the bed, and Harry turned to see Hermione sitting up and stretching her arms. She looked over at him and smiled easily.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Morning," Harry croaked. What was she going to do? Lunge forward and curse him, slap him maybe, for taking her to his bed last night?

Hermione swung her legs over the other side of the bed and stood up. Harry blinked furiously as he realized that when she stood, her blue nightie barely covered the tops of her thighs.

"What's wrong?" She asked him before yawning again.

"You - you might want to get something else on."

Hermione glanced down and slowly smiled as realization dawned on her.

"You're worried about us sleeping together!"

Harry's brain almost exploded.

"Oh God - Hermione - I'm sorry - I didn't - oh God did I? - I mean I was drunk - I don't remember - I'm a terrible person - please tell me I didn't take advantage -"

Hermione giggled furiously.

"I didn't mean it that way," she told him as she sauntered over to him.

Harry felt a powerful wave of relief.

"I mean we both woke up in your bed, wearing very little... Perhaps even cuddling?" Hermione looked at him penetratingly, and Harry nodded weakly. "You're my best friend, Harry. I may not remember exactly what went on last night, but I trust you."

_You shouldn't_, Harry thought as he tried to keep his eyes away from Hermione's rather exposed chest.

"You're very sweet, worrying about that," Hermione said, stepping closer to him.

Harry just nodded.

"Would it be so bad?" Hermione pondered out loud. "Waking up and realizing we'd had sex?"

Harry swallowed hard.

"I - I - I..."

"After all, I've never cared for someone as much as I care for you," Hermione said. "And you are very cute."

Harry's heart thumped and he looked away. Surely she couldn't be saying...

"Harry?" She sounded sad, yet hopeful. "I'm trying to tell you something important."

He looked up and met her eyes.

"I really... I fancy you. I have for ages, and I think I told you last night but you can't remember. I - I've been trying to get up my courage to tell you for a while now, and it isn't as scary, because I know I already did it," she said in a rush.

Harry stared at her.

"Say something," Hermione said nervously. "Harry, please!"

"I - just," he stumbled over his words. "I never imagined I'd hear you say that - I've never been brave enough to tell you I feel the same way. Some Gryffindor I am, right?"

Hermione let out a happy gasp.

"You feel - the same way - oh, Harry!" She reached out and hugged him fiercely. Harry held her, for longer than he ever had before, and grinned in a rather ridiculous manner.

When they released each other, Hermione dove in to push her lips against his. Her lips were pleasantly warm and soft, and Harry's heart raced at having her so close to him. Hermione's breath was hot against his mouth, and Harry cautiously began to kiss her.

As they slowly explored each other, both had the sudden realization that they had found a part of themselves that they'd never known about before. Holding and kissing each other felt so right, so natural. Harry felt that as long as they stayed like this, time would stand still for them. Surely they deserved that much.

Of course, as they shared their first kiss, Death Eaters practiced their curses, a Dark Lord schemed, and a Ministry grew more and more corrupt. Harry and Hermione would have to deal with the world soon. But for now...

"Breakfast?" Harry murmured when they pulled away.

"In a minute," Hermione agreed. She pulled him back to snog him again.

Hermione had a feeling she wouldn't ever get tired of Harry's kisses.


	11. True Luck Doesn't Come in Bottles

Another one-shot, set in 6th year... Because Harry and Hermione need to resolve their feelings in HBP.

Disclaimer: Sadly not mine. A girl can dream, though...

Warning: I haven't read HBP in months, so the setting after the Felix Felicis scene may not be completely accurate. Of course, seeing as Harry and Hermione never have this talk in the book, this whole story is AU.

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry called out in desperation.

The brunette whirled around to face him, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Yes, Potter?"

He stood completely still, shocked at what she had called him. She waited a moment, then turned to go. Ron was already moving down the corridor.

"No, don't go!" He cried, and grasped her arm, pulling her to him.

"What do you want?" She snarled, and his heart pounded. This was not his Hermione.

"Look – I'm sorry," he said pleadingly. "I know I didn't deserve to win, you did. Take the Felix Felicis – I'll tell Slughorn I cheated – just don't be mad at me... I can't stand it when you're mad at me."

Hermione's face slowly relaxed, and she smiled slightly.

"You can keep the Felix Felicis, Harry."

"Will you still be mad at me?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No," Hermione said with a smile, and pulled Harry into a warm hug. He clutched her tightly, worried that if he let her go, she might take their friendship with her. They stood like that, totally still, clinging to each other, for a few minutes, ignoring the passing students who stared and exchanged whispers about them.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said softly into Harry's neck. "I – I was being stupid."

"You could never be stupid," Harry whispered.

"Yes, I can – the way I acted was irrational. I just suppose I was jealous. I'm not used to being beaten," she admitted.

"I won't do it again," Harry promised. "I don't want to lose you."

"Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him in surprise. "You won't lose me."

Harry's laugh was harsh with unspoken pain.

"I never thought I'd lose Sirius either."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione hugged him tightly. She noticed he had tears in his eyes, and made a sudden decision. "Let's go for a walk."

"All right," Harry said softly.

He let her lead him through the castle and down to the lake. Hermione stopped in a sunny area and sat down with Harry.

"Talk to me, Harry," she said softly. "You can tell me everything. I won't tell a soul."

And it all came pouring out. All his feelings of guilt, of inadequacy... His fear that Voldemort would take him over again and he would hurt her and Ron, his fear that he wouldn't be able to defeat Voldemort, and his fear that he would watch them all die, like Cedric and Sirius had.

Hermione held him in her arms, whispered soothing things to Harry. She didn't bother with logic now, all that mattered was emotion. She promised to be there for him, promised to be strong, and reassured him that he shouldn't blame himself.

When Harry was done talking, he collapsed in her arms, tears trickling down his cheeks. He drifted off to sleep, and she followed him soon after. They lay in the grass, wrapped in each other's arms, totally carefree.

For the first time in a long time, Harry didn't have any nightmares. Instead, his dreams were filled with sunshine, gently rolling waves, and soft, warm skin against his – Hermione. He woke up and looked at the girl in his arms, who was gently waking up at the same time.

"Hey," he said softly. Hermione smiled at him. It was the most genuine, gorgeous smile Harry thought he had ever seen.

"Hey yourself," she responded.

What happened next Harry really couldn't help. After all, he was just a teenage guy, with his arms wrapped around a beautiful girl who happened to also be his best friend.

He kissed her. It was short and sweet the first time, just a brushing of lips that nevertheless tingled pleasantly.

"Harry," she breathed happily. "Are you - is this... real?"

"I hope so," he whispered, and kissed her again. Hermione was warm and sweet, and smelled of freshly baked apple pie and the breeze he felt when flying.

She was kissing him back quite eagerly now, using her tongue. Her hands slipped around to clutch at his messy hair and pull him even closer. Their bodies were now flush against each other, and they both trembled at the sensation.

The wild kiss slowly grew more gentle, until they both slowly pulled away, breathing deeply. Hermione was smiling at him. Her brown eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly swollen from his kisses.

"That was really nice," she whispered.

"We should do that more often," Harry agreed.

"Indeed. Commence with the snogging." Hermione said mischievously.

He obediently tugged her back to ravish her mouth again.

"I always knew it was going to happen," Professor McGonagall said proudly as she watched from the window.

"I thought it would be in their seventh year, just like James and Lily," Madam Pomfrey sighed as she reached into her pocket.

"I warned you to rue the day you bet against Severus Snape. Fifty galleons, I believe it was," Severus Snape sneered at his colleagues.

"You don't even _like_ Potter," Pomona Sprout pouted as she handed over her money.

"No, but I can see an easy money-making scheme when I see one," Snape replied. He took his money and left the other Professors to watch the love struck teens in the grass, muttering something about how old age brought on perverse and voyeuristic tendencies as he went.

"Oh, look, Neville. They must have caught wrackspurts," Luna said airily as she glanced at Harry and Hermione, still entangled in each other's arms on the grass.

"Oh. Wrackspurts," Neville said, a little bemused as always.

"I think you might have some too," Luna said, staring at Neville. "Here, I'll get them for you."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Neville opened his mouth in surprise, and was delightfully startled when she began searching for wrackspurts with her tongue.

"Maybe we can look at the book together," Harry mused as he held Hermione in his arms. Somehow she fit perfectly in his embrace.

"I'd love that," she admitted.

"Great," Harry grinned. "Now come on, Miss Prefect. We better get to class. Don't want to be_ too _late, do we?"

Laughing, they walked back to the castle, not even noticing Dean and Ginny snogging in an alcove near the classroom.

They arrived to Charms a few minutes late, but nothing could stamp Harry's feeling of simple joy. He held Hermione's hand for most of the class period, never thinking of letting go.

Ron was eagerly chatting with Lavender Brown and proudly showing her how to do the spell properly. Harry and Hermione grinned at their friend, glad that Ron was growing up. Lavender hung on the redhead's every word, and Harry and Hermione exchanged knowing looks.

Between chuckling over Ron's behavior and completing his charm, Harry didn't notice his classmates whispering about him and Hermione and making jokes about what kind of charming they had been doing. He wouldn't have cared anyway.

Being with Hermione was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn't know what the future had in store for him. But he knew that she would be there to face it with him. It was enough.


End file.
